Haunting Wind

There is a haunting-ness to the wind that is blowing around the streets of Milwaukee today. It reminds me of a stately old mansion I once visited that stands eerily in the midst of trees in northwestern Pennsylvania. It is fully furnished with treasures from the past, but empty and silent. No one wants it anymore. If a house could be alive, this one surely would be. It seems to be pleading for life. When the wind blows outside its doors, it sounds like a crazy woman shrieking for help. Its endless windows seem to have faces in them, begging to be let out. When darkness unfolds in the late evening hours, the house echoes the sounds of wild animals outside. Bats fly by the unadorned windows. Everything in the house is silent as if it is waiting for something to happen: the grand piano that once hosted decadent parties, the huge stone fireplaces that crackled with firewood for days on end, the inner kitchen where maids and butlers tirelessly worked. Stillness prevails. Spooky stillness.

Leaves scurry today in Milwaukee as if they have somewhere to go. The trees speak softly to each other. It feels like a world in which we are not welcome. We are not meant to be outside today. There are things going on that we cannot understand. Mother Nature, with all her windy glory, reigns supreme.